Smoke and Mirrors
by Fififjonka
Summary: Arya finally says the words. Valar Morghulis. But what happens afterwards is not quite as she imagined. It sends her on a journey where nothing is certain or safe, with a guardian whose motives are shady and who doesn't like sharing his secrets. R&R, please.
1. Dungeons

**Dungeons**

_Valar Morghulis... All men must die. They all must die for what they did. To her. To the people she loved. She wants them dead. And she will make sure they all die. One by one and by her hand..._

_"Valar Morghulis..."_

The silent whisper was almost inaudible in the darkness and solitude. Arya moved and hissed with throbbing pain. It was like a knife in her temples. She opened her eyes but saw only darkness. Where was she?

Arya couldn't remember. She was laying on a stone floor, the stones were wet and cold. And rectangular, so it wasn't a cave. More like a cell. And despite her frantic blinking, her surroundings stayed in pitch black. Was she blind?

"Oh no, not blind..." she whispered with fear. She curled into a ball, wrapping her arms around her knees, listening to her heart beating. Calm down, she must calm down. Maybe this was a dream. No, something was telling her it was real. How did she get there? What was the last thing she could remember?

The Hound. Yes, she was with him. He kept her a prisoner. She killed a man and the Hound stared at her. She held a silver coin in her hand.

_"Valar Morghulis," she murmurs once again. But nothing happens. She stands there, covered in blood, and nothing happens. Then the Hound grabs her, dragging her away. She doesn't fight back. Storm is upon them, bending the trees down._

_"Who the hell are you?!" the Hound shouts and pushes her on side. Three men in dark cloaks fight the Hound until one of them asks him a question._

_"Did you speak the words?"_

_The Hound mocks him and spits on him. They turn over and look at her. There is nothing in their hoods but black holes. She feels her heart racing._

_"She did," they say. She runs through the woods, breathless and terrified. They are definitely not human. And Jaqen was a liar. A traitor._

_"You can't escape!"_

_Finally, she falls. They are above her. One of them takes the coin from her hand and she winces with the coldness of his skin._

_"Let me go!" she manages to yell._

_"Once you said the words, there is no going back..." they say. She screams and everything whirls in blurred stains and buzzing sounds, like a giant swarm of hornets. And she's falling, her mind drifting away. She sees faces. Her mother and brothers, Sansa and her father. Then it hazes and she hears swords clashing, splashing blood and cry and laments. Different faces emerge in front of her. Joffrey... Cersei... Tywin Lannister... the Hound... Polliver..._

_They keep her company. Joffrey's high-pitched voice ordering her father's death. Cersei's cold, ruthless stare. Tywin's schemes to destroy Starks. The Hound bringing Mycah's corpse. Robb's body with Grey Wind's head sewed instead of his own..._

_When she wakes up from her dreams, she hears flies buzzing around. She smells a horse beneath, listens to its shoes clapping. She feels the sun burning her skin. Sand scratching her neck. How come it's so hot? Like a desert... __There's a sack on her head and a gag in her mouth. When she opens her eyes, she sees only bright yellow light. People talk around but she doesn't understand. Where are they travelling to?_

_The sound of horseshoes clapping changes. They arrive to a city. Foreign language flows through its streets. It sounds weird to her ears. They take her down and force her to walk. The sun disappears as they go lower and lower. The air is getting colder and she can't stop shivering. She knows this smell. It's a dungeon. A prison?_

_They cut the ties on her wrists and somebody's hand pushes her. She slips, sliding on the wet stones. Air whooshes around her head and she keeps rolling deeper into the tomb until she stops on the very bottom, hitting her head against the wall._

_And there she wakes up._

Arya was staring into the darkness. It could have been the weirdest dream. Except it was real. And that time, reality was far worse than the most horrible nightmare. She had absolutely no idea where she was or what was happening. She couldn't see as there was darkness all around. She was so deep in the dungeons - considering the long fall - she could almost sense the weight of hundreds of stones above her. And she was completely alone.

She crawled a few metres, touching the ascending wall. The slope was too steep, it was impossible to climb up. She tried screaming and shouting into the nothingness but only the echo of her own voice kept returning. She stopped with that soon. The cell fell back into utter silence. Arya laid down on the stones, exhausted. She felt like never getting up again. If only she would wake up back at Winterfell...

Arya froze all of the sudden. Something moved behind her. Silent, shuffling sound. Like a slithering snake.

"Who's there?!" she said, keeping her voice from trembling. She had no weapon to fight. With anxiety, she pressed herself against the stone floor. Was it an animal? She hated the idea it could attack her any second and she wouldn't see it nor hear it.

"Hey! Who is that?!"

"You don't know?" a deep voice spoke from the cold darkness, making Arya hold her breath and clench her fists.

"A girl has a very poor memory... A man thought it was better..."

* * *

_OK, the first chap is done, hope you like and let me know what you think :-)_


	2. Questions in the Dark

**Questions in the dark**

Arya was sitting in the cold and dark cell, not moving, not speaking. Water was tapping somewhere, being the only sound she could hear.

"Has a girl nothing to say?" he spoke again. His unusual smooth voice resonated in the indefinite space of the prison.

"Jaqen?"

"So a girl remembers after all," he said with satisfaction. Arya shook her head. It just didn't make any sense.

"Where are we?"

"In a cell. It's quite evident."

"But where?"

"In a land of sand and heat and flies and drought, far away."

"What am I doing here?" she demanded. She had absolutely no interest in being in such a land.

"You said the words and held the coin."

"I did," she agreed. "But I thought it'd bring you to me, so you could help me. While it brought me into a stinky dungeon and made me a prisoner... It's a pretty stupid coin, you know."

Slowly, Arya was getting angry. Was this Jaqen's magical gift? Imprisonment in a sleazy cell in an unknown land? Staying with the Hound looked like a better option.

"There were certain... circumstances."

"Circumstances? You better deal with them now, I can't lose my time locked in here," Arya said. "Get me out."

Jaqen took some time before speaking again and she could almost see an amused smile spreading on his lips.

"I am also a prisoner, lovely girl."

"Again?" Arya breathed out. Unbelievable. "But you must get us out."

"That is more difficult than you think. This prison is not constructed for an easy escape."

"And what prison is?" Arya remarked. "I don't care anyway. I'm here because of you. You must get me out, _now._"

"Even if I did that, a girl is too far from her homeland."

"How?" Arya managed to say. "How is that possible?"

"There were three man, right?" Jaqen said, calmly as she remembered he used to speak. "They are called the Ruthraya and rule over my order. They can bring the one who uses the coin - and says the right words - to the man who owned the coin previously."

"So they brought me to you? But why am_ I_ locked here? I have nothing to do with why _you're_ locked here."

"A girl cannot know that," Jaqen said in a by-the-way manner and continued: "And a man did something the Ruthraya condemn and punish. They also punish all those trying to use a man's coin. It could be an ally."

Arya frowned.

"So I'm here only because you did something you shouldn't? Tell them to take me back."

"The Ruthraya won't listen."

"Then do something else to get me out. It's not my fault you can't control yourself."

"You are angry, I hear," Jaqen said, his voice remaining collected, but still quite amused. Why did Arya had the feeling there was nothing Jaqen would take seriously?

"You bet I am!" she shouted, frustrated. "Don't you know what happened? They killed my mother and brother!"

Arya was panting as the terrible feeling of hate took over her mind once again. She closed her eyes, fighting against the cry and tears.

"I must avenge them. And now I'm locked in a dungeon, thousand miles from the rest of my family, alone and in darkness..."

She didn't want to cry or whine. She was still alive so there was still some hope.

"Is there any way how to get out?" she asked then, when she calmed down. She waited but no answer would come.

"Do you hear me?"

Still no answer. Did he disappear or what?

"Jaqen?"

The sound of tapping water was again the only thing she could hear. Arya crawled on the wet stones in the direction she heard Jaqen's voice coming from.

"Jaqen, are you here?"

Inch by inch she kept moving, pushing her fear away.

"Jaqen..."

She stopped when her fingers touched a hand. She withdrew reflexively.

"Is a girl scared?" Jaqen said, his enigmatic voice so close she could feel the air moving as he spoke.

"No," she said quickly. "I'm not. Why should I be?"

Arya hesitated, reaching her arm slowly. There were shackles on his wrists, with chains. She followed the chains with her hand, realizing they were embedded in the wall Jaqen was evidently leaning against.

"Why are you chained?" she asked. Jaqen chuckled bitterly.

"A stupid question," he said. "Don't you know what chains are for?"

Arya made a face at him, unseen in the darkness.

"So... what did you do?"

"That is a story for another time," he said. His tone changed. There was no amusement in it any more. Arya too fell silent. She leaned against the wall next to Jaqen, putting her head on her knees. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath of the freezing air. She wanted to repeat her death prayer, but somehow, it didn't work this time.

"A girl should sleep, the journey was tiring," Jaqen said, disturbing her thoughts.

"Maybe," she uttered in a grim tone. "I guess there's plenty of time for that."

"I wouldn't think so," Jaqen replied and Arya raised an eyebrow.

"Why?"

"Because," Jaqen said and once again a smile could be felt on his lips, "I am to be executed in three days."

* * *

_Second chap, tell me what you think, the review box is just a click away. Thanks and hope you enjoyed :-)_


	3. Three Rules

**Three Rules**

_The stare of a red eyed wolf's head kept burning her mind. It followed her every move, counted her every breath. It__ chased her. The eyes always open. The mutilated body of her brother was twitching, raising arms, trying to catch her._

_"King of the North! King of the North!"_

Arya woke up panting. For a second or two she could still hear the shouting people.

"A girl had a nightmare?"

Arya rubbed her eyes. She evidently was still in the prison. Like _that_ couldn't have been a dream. She sat up and leaned against the wall.

"I can't stand the dark," she muttered. "What if I go blind?"

"A man is here for twenty four days and is not blind."

Arya looked where she supposed Jaqen was sitting. Close enough she could hear his robes shifting when he moved.

"What did you do?" she asked again.

"I broke the rules."

"What rules?"

"Of my order. There are three rules. Breaking them means punishment. And punishment is death."

"You must be a lousy assassin if you can't observe three rules," Arya remarked sarcastically. "What are they?"

Jaqen was hesitating to speak, until she repeated her question once more.

"First - never reveal the secrets of the order. Second - never break a deal. Third - never betray another member."

"Which one did _you_ break?"

"The second."

"You broke a deal? With whom? About what?"

"Not now," Jaqen said quite coldly. But Arya knew he was an assassin capable of killing many effortlessly. Her heart was telling her he was far more dangerous than majority of the assassins she had met. He must have done something really bad he ended here.

"A girl asks many questions," Jaqen said, restoring the usual calmness. "Maybe it's time for a man to ask. Why did you use my coin?"

"I wanted you to teach me everything so I could kill all the murderers who slew my family," Arya said with a firm tone.

"So a girl thinks she is ready?"

"I have nothing to lose now," Arya said. She heard him snort softly.

"There's always something to lose," he disagreed in low-pitched tone that sent shivers down Arya's spine.

"What about the things that make you the person you?"

"I can't lose that," she objected.

"You can, lovely girl. And most probably will have to. If you want to learn and succeed."

Arya had a good idea where he was leading her to. Would she give up such a big part of herself for revenge?

"I don't know why you ask. You won't teach me anything. You're locked here. And they want to execute you."

"I've almost forgotten," Jaqen said casually. "In that case, a man must get out."

"What about me?"

"They'll ask you questions," Jaqen said. "About me. Then they either will or won't let you go. My guess would be they won't. If you want to escape, there will be one and only chance. After they come for you, do as I say."

"All right..." Arya said and a smirk appeared on her lips. "This is the second time I'm helping you out. Can't you be more independent?"

"How witty," Jaqen uttered ironically. "The guard has a knife by his hip. When he comes, I will speak to him. Take the knife and leave it here."

"What for?"

"To unlock my shackles."

"I hope you have a good escape plan," Arya remarked. "I can't die now."

Jaqen laughed briefly.

"A girl who knows what she wants," he said and somehow, Arya felt flattered.

"Tell me one thing," she said then. "If I didn't come, would you manage to get out of this tomb? You were either very lucky," she paused for a while, "or you knew I'd come."

"A girl is smart," Jaqen said. "And a girl is right. A man wouldn't put himself in danger for nothing."

"But what was the deal you broke? Who -"

Arya stopped. She heard something from above.

"They are coming," Jaqen said. "Don't fight. Answer truthfully. Don't be afraid."

"I am not," she said stubbornly. But she was lying.

"Of course," Jaqen admitted smoothly. Loud shuffling noises kept approaching, like moving pieces of wall. Suddenly, a ball of light appeared, making Arya narrow her eyes. A man was speaking but she didn't understand. Her heart was racing with fear.

"Jaqen," she called his name quietly, not sure what she actually wanted to say.

"A girl is brave," Jaqen said silently. "A girl trusts a man."

"Yes..." she whispered, watching the guard walking towards her. He held a torch and was wearing long, beige robes with armour on shoulders and chest. She glanced at his hip, noticing a small knife.

"Almadis tsi wahya," she heard Jaqen speak. The guard froze like that was an insult, turning after his voice.

"Onlahte," the guard spat out with anger. Arya slipped her arm under his. As he wanted to turn back, Jaqen stopped him again.

"Nahan chaafi," he said in a mocking tone, infuriating the guard even more. He made a few steps closer to Jaqen, allowing Arya to bow and put the knife quietly on the floor. She was standing just two or three feet away from Jaqen, hoping the chains on his arms were long enough for him to reach for it.

"Bizaad ohsa," the guard said angrily. He grabbed Arya's arm, taking her away to a small platform. They stepped on it and it started moving up the sloping wall. Arya breathed in nervously. Although she didn't like admitting it, she was afraid. With Jaqen locked here, she had no one to protect her. She had to trust him and his escape plan. Because if it didn't work, she was lost.


	4. Break Out

**Break Out**

"What is your name?"

"Arry."

"Where did you get the coin?"

"It was a gift..."

"From whom?"

"From... a man."

Arya was in a dark hall. There were seven people, all sitting by a long table, three of them cloaked. The Ruthraya, Arya guessed. But they didn't speak. A woman was asking her. She was tall and slender, with eagle-like black eyes and short black hair. Her voice was like steel. She was translating for a bald man in red robes. Then there were two more dark-haired men in armour. Arya was standing in front of the table with the guard still by her side. There were no civilians present.

"Do you know his name?" the woman asked.

"No, actually..."

"How did he introduce himself?"

"He didn't," Arya lied, trying to sound convincing.

"Do you think we won't do you harm because you are a child?" the woman asked, raising an eyebrow, watching her like an animal its pray.

"We know who gave you the coin," the woman continued. "A man under the name Jaqen H'ghar. The same man you met in the dungeons. He betrayed his order because of you. He broke a deal he swore to keep. He killed a member of his order. He gave the precious coin to a child and endangered the whole order. He's going to die soon and if we are to spare you depends entirely on you."

The woman paused for a second or two.

"So, Arry, now it's time for the truth. Tell me who you really are and what was your deal with this man?"

But Arya stayed silent. The woman gave her another long look, making her feel like she could see right through her. With a barely noticeable move by her eyes she gave a signal to the guard. The next moment Arya found herself on the floor with throbbing pain in her head and blood on her lips.

"Shall he punch you again? Or you will you speak?"

Arya kept her mouth shut, her eyes focused on the floor. Her guard gave her another punch, this time she was thrown in the air, her mind spinning.

"He's not easily tired," the woman threatened. But something broke in Arya. She was determined not to tell one more word. No matter what Jaqen told her. And even when the guard repeatedly punched her in the face, she somehow couldn't feel the pain. And that was - in a way - more frightening than the whole situation.

"Stop," the woman said to the guard standing above laying Arya.

"Take her back to the dungeon and leave her in the darkness until she screams for light."

The guard practically dragged her all the way back to her prison with Arya slowly regaining her consciousness and awareness. She realized they were sliding on the platform down the sloping wall until they hit the bottom. Her guard shouted in the dark but the cell remained silent. Arya was laying on her back, listening closely. And she prayed to the old gods and the new.

Please... Please, Jaqen.

Like a ghost he appeared behind the guard. She saw only his shady figure faintly enlightened by the torch. He broke the guard's neck swiftly, making no sound. The dead body fell on the ground and Jaqen took the torch, giving the dead guard one last look before shifting his eyes in her direction.

"Time to go, lovely girl," he said, offering her a hand. She grabbed it and he pulled her up.

Arya's memory of their escape was shattered. She could recall Jaqen killing ten or twenty guards along, all clean, silent deaths. When the sunshine hit her, she hissed and closed her eyes, depending entirely on Jaqen's leading. She followed him through the narrow, crowded streets of the city, which seemed enormously huge to her. Many times Jaqen pulled her into a dark corner or alley, spotting a dangerous face or a couple of passing guards. It took almost an hour till they reached the gate leading out.

There were two gate keepers on each side, armed with swords. Two lines of people in opposite directions were going through. Gate keepers were checking them but they were obviously tired in the heat and didn't pay much attention, so they managed to slip under their hands.

"We must go as far from the city as we can," Jaqen said. "They are already looking for us. Move, girl. There's no time to waste."

They left the main road and kept marching through the desert until the night was upon them. Arya didn't look around, she didn't think, she just kept forcing her legs to move. She wasn't counting the hours as the night was progressing and morning getting nearer.

"Jaqen, stop," she said when she knew her legs wouldn't carry her any longer. Jaqen stopped but didn't turn.

"A girl is tired. A man can carry her."

"No," Arya said resolutely, "I only need a short pause."

"A girl is proud," Jaqen said. "A good quality. But not always."

He lifted her in the air easily, keeping his pace. Arya first wanted to fight but found obedience much less exhausting.

"Where are we going?"

"The city Tuzzah," Jaqen explained. Arya had much more questions but couldn't control her tongue any more. They were going uphill and the monotonous swaying up and down made her dizzy. Air was warming up and suddenly a sun beam hit her face. Arya opened her eyes. There were rocks and sand around, everything bathing in the golden light of early morning. She looked up, facing Jaqen for the very first time since she'd said the words.

"A girl looks surprised," Jaqen said calmly. "Maybe she is frightened?"

Arya opened her mouth but no words came from her throat.

"Now you see, lovely girl, what faceless really means."


	5. Faceless

Those black, hollow eyes, shadows lingering around them, the paleness of his skin... It was like the face of a ghost or a phantom, empty, featureless, a face of no one. Arya looked away but couldn't get the image out of her mind.

"A man sees," Jaqen said. "He won't show her his true face if that scares her so."

Arya slowly lifted her eyes and saw the man she remembered. A face with blue, piercing eyes and sharp lines of cheekbones, framed by red hair with white strands and his lips curled into a slight smirk.

"Does a girl like this better?"

She coughed, feeling uneasy.

"I... remember you this way. I -"

"No need to explain yourself," Jaqen said. "I understand you find it less confusing. And frightening. I can be Jaqen H'ghar for you. Nobody in these lands has seen him so it's safe for a man to wear his face."

Jaqen started walking as he spoke and Arya couldn't stop staring at him. It had been so long since she saw him the last time and she felt a strange kind of relief. When she begged him to kill Tywin's soldier so he wouldn't give him the stolen letter and Jaqen agreed to do it, she felt the same relief, only this time it was much stronger.

"How do you do it?"

"A man will explain, but not now," Jaqen said. "He wants a girl to sleep and regain her strength."

Arya knew arguing was pointless and she fell asleep the following second. When she woke up, she was laying in desert on Jaqen's coat. She sat up quickly and saw Jaqen sitting next to her and watching the flames of fire he made.

"A girl is up. Is she feeling better?"

"Yes, thanks," she said, watching him. "What about you?"

"A man was wondering," Jaqen said contemplatively. "Wondering about a girl. Does she still fall asleep with names on her lips? Does she want to leave everything behind and follow the path of revenge?"

"Of course I want," Arya said without thinking. "That's why I'm here. I want to avenge them. Just tell me how."

"It's not an easy journey, not as you imagine it."

"Will you teach me how to change my face?" Arya asked, excited just by the thought of it. Jaqen glared at her.

"Not yet," he said. "The power of face-shifting comes with a price and you saw that not long ago."

Arya widened her eyes but Jaqen continued: "The training you would have to undertake is very difficult. It can take years to finish. And you must dedicate your whole self to it. Every little bit. Give up your past, give up your needs, give up your name and your identity."

"I can do that!"

"But have you thought about the things? Things innate to a woman? Finding a man to love, building a home to live, having a child to raise..."

Arya shook her head.

"I don't need a family, I can manage on my own."

"The path you want to choose is the path of solitude and not particularly happy."

"Then be it," Arya said. "I don't want to be happy. I want to be free. Being free is what makes me happy. Besides, I won't be entirely alone. You'll be there."

Jaqen was listening to her closely and the look of his eyes was telling her she made an impression on him.

"A girl is young," he said then. "She doesn't yet have the need but it may come when it's too late."

"It may and may not," Arya answered. "You can never know."

"Hm..." Jaqen narrowed his eyes slightly. "Perhaps... And the last but the most important part. A girl would have to obey my every order. You, Arya, would have to have an absolute trust in me."

Arya hadn't even realized Jaqen's tone changed from the usual calm to far more serious.

"Think it through and tell me the answer soon."

But Arya knew there wasn't a need to think about it any longer.

"Here's the answer," she said. "It's a yes."

Jaqen smiled, giving in a small nod.

"We will go to Tuzzah in the morning. Rest. A man will watch."

"But I wanted to ask -"

"There will be time for questions. A lot of time."

"I wanted to ask if I can move closer," Arya said. "I'm cold."

"Of course."

When she did that and he put the tip of his coat over her as a blanket, she still felt his eyes on her face. He touched her cheek with his gloved hand and Arya remembered the guard who beat her, realizing she must have had bruises all over her face. She couldn't say it for sure but it looked like Jaqen's eyes glimmered with anger. But he looked away then, leaning his head against the rock. Albeit his eyes were closed, she could say he was very well alert.

"Rest."

"But I can't -"

"A girl will obey every order," he reminded her and she sighed.

"Right," she said silently. "She will. Can I ask you one last question?"

"Go on."

"Why would you do that for me?"

"A man will keep that as a secret, wolf-girl."

"He can try," Arya muffled. "But a wolf-girl is pretty good in uncovering secrets. And we are going to spend a lot of time together."


	6. Swear me, lovely girl

The city of Tuzzah was impressive in the light of early morning. Its pale walls looked like made of ivory and the coloured banners like beads on strings, interwoven with the high buildings. They were going down a narrow road leading to an opened gate.

"From now on your name is Cyra until I say otherwise," Jaqen said. "Call me Torsten. You are my daughter and we are going to stay just for a couple of weeks."

Arya nodded.

"Do they know the common language here?"

"Some of them," Jaqen said. "Tuzzah is smaller than Garthos, the city we were imprisoned it. They think we went to the Narrow Sea and Tuzzah is in the opposite direction. It's a good place to hide for some time. But don't be fooled, lovely girl, not even Tuzzah is a safe city. No city in Braavos si safe."

"Do you have money?"

"That shouldn't be a problem," Jaqen said as they entered the gate. Jaqen spoke to the guard and he let them through. Arya's eyes travelled from one building to another, all of them high and white, numerous people passing the streets, chatting with each other. Their clothes were different and she smelled a whole bunch of new fragrances. Soon she realized, with an unpleasant feeling, she was sticking out like a sore thumb, unlike Jaqen, whose long grey cloak and clothes were similar to theirs.

"There is one place we may stay," Jaqen said and kept leading her deeper to the city. When they finally stopped, there was quite a big house in front of them, made of greyish stone, standing at the end of a street and hidden in shadows. Jaqen spoke to the owner for a while, who suspiciously watched Arya the whole time and she unsuccessfully tried to look normal.

"He will rent us a room detached from the house."

Arya followed Jaqen through the building. They crossed a small courtyard and walked along the cloister to another house. Jaqen quickly searched it inside while Arya paid attention to the wet stone walls and spider nets in corners. Nevertheless, it looked cleaner than any other establishment she had seen in recent history.

"We will stay," Jaqen decided, going down the stairs.

"Take any room you want. A man has some more business to do," he noticed her look and added slowly: "No, a girl stays here and opens to no one. Only to a servant who will bring some food soon."

He left and Arya stayed in the hall, too many things whirling in her mind. When she heard a knock, she half-opened the door and saw a boy holding a tray with food. Although Arya tried desperately to find a mean of communication, it was pointless and the servant boy rushed out - obviously not getting a single word she said.

She soothed her empty stomach and thirst and started exploring the house. It was quite big for only two people but she didn't really mind. There were two large rooms upstairs and she chose the one with windows leading to the garden. But soon she returned downstairs, sitting by the table in the dining room. She lit a candle and stared into the flame.

Her mind wondered, images appearing in front of her. The mockery of her brother's dead body, the description of her mother's scream before her throat was cut, the sound of swinging sword when her father was beheaded, Grey Wind's yowl when arrows impaled him through... It was like a big black hole inside her, spreading and threatening to swallow her like a giant dragon's mouth. The people she loved kept leaving her. Was it her destiny to live alone?

As time passed by and Jaqen hadn't come back, the anxiety in Arya's heart was getting worse. Suddenly she felt the unfamiliarity of this place, the cold sound of a language she couldn't speak, thousands of people she didn't know, the loneliness... If Jaqen just decided to leave her, she had no idea what to do. She wouldn't even be able to introduce herself, let alone trying to get a job.

Her thoughts were disrupted by silent steps behind the door. She stood up, blowing out the candle, and silently tip-toed to the door, listening. Somebody was breathing there.

"Jaqen...?" she said quietly. And she froze with dread. She heard silent laughter. The door handle moved then and she widened her eyes in horror. The laugher could be heard again and it sent shivers down her spine. She made a few steps back into the darkness, remembering she wasn't armed. She pressed herself into the corner, listening to the laughter over her heart beating. It seemed like eternity when it suddenly stopped and Arya honestly couldn't be more frightened. The door handle moved again but the door opened this time. Arya's wide opened eyes stared into the dark.

"A wolf-girl is hidden in the dark..."

"Jaqen!"

Arya rushed forward and hugged him tightly, catching him off guard.

"It was only a thief," he explained like trying to calm her down. "He won't come back."

"I thought you wouldn't come back..." she said, stepping back. Jaqen raised an eyebrow, walking to the dining room and lightening a big candle.

"You don't trust me?"

"I do, I'm just used to people leaving me behind," Arya said, sitting down in front of him and their eyes met.

"But I am no people," Jaqen said silently, watching her in the faint, shivering candle light.

"Swear me, Arya," he said suddenly, his tone demanding. There was a sudden urge in his eyes.

"It is not only a girl who must trust a man but also the other way around."

Arya didn't break the eye contact, sensing the importance of his words.

"Take an oath," he continued. "You won't give away anything I tell you. You won't keep any vital secrets from me. You will always be honest with me. And you will always obey. A man must be sure, little girl. And don't swear on gods. Swear on the spirits of your dead family. Swear on their blood."

Arya stared into his eyes, the candle light reflecting in the blue orbs she was about to entrust her life to.

"What a girl says?" he asked, his voice low and vibrating, barely audible. Arya blinked.

"I, Arya Stark, swear to you, Jaqen, nameless and faceless, that by the blood of my father, mother and brothers, I will never lie, never betray and always obey."

Jaqen raised his head, watching her with satisfaction.

"I accept your oath, Arya, wolf-girl. And I swear to you, that you will never be left behind again."


	7. The Girl With Wolf Blood In Her Veins

Endless nights spent alone in a house, wondering from one room to another, sporadically visiting the courtyard. Sometimes Arya went to the city but the fact she couldn't speak the language forced her to stay at home. He never stayed long and she barely saw anything of him during those days when time seemed to stop. Once in a while she saw him sneak out of the house, his face shadowed and eyes distant, knowing it could take him days to return. When she asked anything, be patient was his answer.

Arya shut herself inside, feeling her mind and heart being tied by black strings of sorrow and isolation, only her worst fears keeping her company. She knew Jaqen kept her safe, but not in this way. She stopped asking when the training would begin or why he wouldn't speak to her for days.

One night she actually managed to fall asleep, haunted by numerous nightmares, just like every other night. The nightmares were getting worse, though, accompanied by stomach and head aches, and the irrational fear she couldn't understand. She no longer could say if being up and thinking was better than being asleep and defenseless against it.

Suddenly, Jaqen woke her up in the middle of the night and she almost fell off the bed.

"Follow me," he said simply and Arya slipped down, walking to the night with him. He helped her on his horse and sat behind her. Arya welcomed the fresh air as they trotted out of Tuzzah. For an hour they kept going further until Jaqen stopped. Arya refused his help and jumped down herself.

"Sit down," he ordered and sat down on a rock in front of her. Arya felt how her anger was growing bigger inside her, with every second of silence.

"Would you like to ask a man a question?"

"What?"

"A girl didn't hear?"

"A question? Why would I want to ask a question? Just because I'm alone in the house for weeks? Or –," and she was already heating up -," because you don't speak to me? Or because I don't understand this stupid language? Or because I swore, I put my life into your hands, and you let me rot like this?!"

She hadn't noticed she stood up and was shouting with fury.

"Or because every night I can see them dying, again and again?!"

She clenched her fists as she was shaking violently. A tear leaked from her eye and she wiped it away. But more and more tears would come and soon she was on her knees weeping, her tears wetting the dusty ground.

"Don't fight it," she heard Jaqen say. "Let it go."

She didn't know how long she kept crying but all of the sudden it stopped. She breathed in deeply and stood up, facing Jaqen, who hadn't moved for the whole time she wept. She felt strangely light, like a heavy stone fell off her shoulders. She felt clean and calm.

"A man saw a girl dwelling in her pain," Jaqen said. "Every day and every night. She was trying to lock it but that is not the way it works. A girl needed to let go."

Arya was watching him with tears still blurring her vision.

"Why did you leave me alone?"

He tilted his head on side.

"I kept an eye on you, wolf-girl, but I wanted you to face your demons. I needed your mind untied."

"You could have said something at least!"

"Patience is a quality you are yet to learn," he smirked. "Believe me, you'll need it."

"I swore my life to you," Arya said, narrowing her eyes.

"I want you to repay for it. I want you to start training me in combat, with a sword, or just my legs and arms, riding a horse and fighting more than one man at once. I want you to teach me where all lands are laying, names of cities, roads and paths and how to get where I need. And I want you to teach me all the languages you speak!"

Jaqen laughed and shook his head.

"A girl can have that all," he said. Arya held her breath.

"Really?" she asked and he closed his eyes for a second in agreement. Arya thought about it but had to stop for it felt like a wave coming to wash her away. All this… She will have it all... She looked at him in awe, as he was waiting for more questions.

"Where were you the whole time?"

"Working…"

"You got a job in the local bakery or what?"

Jaqen chuckled and his eyes glimmered in the moon light.

"How would you think the house is paid for? There are always buyers for what I offer."

"Which is what?"

"Death," he said. Arya opened her mouth.

"You're an assassin?!"

"You can call it like that," he agreed.

"You kill people for money? Innocent people?"

"Innocent?" he repeated, amused. "After all you've seen you still believe in innocent people?"

"Some of them are," she said. "Would you kill them too?"

"Little Arya," he said, "you are yet to see the world and you will be able to count the innocent people on fingers of your left hand. If you want be skilled like I am, rethink your view about innocence… However, there is always a choice. If somebody asked a man to kill a widowed farmer with five children, a man can say no."

Jaqen made a few steps around, looking up at the sky.

"People a man kills are – usually – of the same nature like him."

He gave her a look over his shoulder.

"Although you swore to obey, this choice is always yours."

She nodded slowly, letting his words go through her mind.

"A man has something for you," Jaqen said. He held a sack in his hand, handling it to her. She unwrapped it and widened her eyes. There was brand new dress for her, obviously made by the finest hands in Tuzzah. Dark grey pants of soft leather, ivory long-sleeved shirt, short jacket with dark vermillion straps and high laced boots.

Arya looked up at him and suddenly felt so overwhelmed she couldn't speak a single word. Jaqen saw that in her face and merely waved his hand.

"No need for thanking, lovely girl. Try it on."

Arya dressed behind a rock. It was like standing on the edge of the unknown, with thrills tickling her skin, with fear rushing somewhat pleasantly through her veins. She walked out, standing in front of her guardian. Jaqen looked her up and down and nodded slowly, a smile spreading on his lips.

"A man sees a girl with wolf blood in her veins," he said, coming closer to her. She had to tilt her head back so she wouldn't break their eye contact.

"Let's make a warrior out of her," he said and Arya felt her own lips curling into a smile, life once again spurting in her heart.


	8. Veil

Since that night Jaqen had given her new dress, Arya couldn't say she would have some time left for dwelling in her pain. When she was alone in the house, she was studying maps and books Jaqen provided and at nights they went to the desert, where Jaqen was training her in combat and sword.

Quite often he tied a cloth around her head to cover her eyes, forcing her to rely only on what she could hear, making her wear it the whole day or during the training.

"Listen, wolf-girl," he'd whisper to her ear like a silent blow of wind. "Listen and fight me…"

His voice was her only lead, often she would forget he was a man of flesh and blood and thought he was more than that – a phantom, the voice in the wind.

"You'll be facing times in your life, wolf-girl, when your ears can mean the difference between life and death."

She used to go to bed with bruises and scratches, exhausted to a point not even her nightmares would haunt her. And when there was free time, Jaqen was teaching her the language of Braavos. He also gave her a task that firstly seemed easy but with time proved to be almost impossible.

"If a girl manages to surprise a man once, she shall receive a special gift from him."

Despite her best efforts he always spotted her in a split second, giving her the kind of smirk she grew to very much dislike.

But even if Arya was frustrated many times, feeling she didn't do well, annoyed how difficult Braavos language was or that she wasn't making any progress in combat at all, she wouldn't say a word. Only when she was alone she would swear, but never in front of Jaqen.

In the evening of the fifty third day in Tuzzah, she was walking around her room, naming aloud all important isles of Braavos and imagining their position on the map. She heard steps downstairs, meaning Jaqen was back. She welcomed that for she hadn't seen him for four days, which was long even for him. When she didn't find him in the house, she took a look to the private bathhouse that was a part of the building, accessible only to residents.

She indeed found him in one of the wooden tubs, soaking in hot water and shrouded with steam. His head was leaning against the tub side, his eyes closed. There were only two torches on the walls, leaving the surroundings in darkness. Arya watched him wordlessly, the eerie man she hadn't yet been able to understand. Never explaining his decisions, the reasons he did what he did, leaving her in the mist of doubts, keeping this semitransparent veil between them. But with him lying in the tub almost like he'd be sleeping – which Arya hadn't actually seen him do before – the veil seemed to disappear for the first time.

She made a few steps closer, as quiet as possible, until she could almost touch his arm.

"A girl is getting better," he said smoothly, with his eyes remaining closed. Arya stooped her shoulders with disappointment.

"I hate you," she uttered and he smirked, as he knew she didn't mean it.

"You've been long gone," she remarked and he just slid a bit lower in the tub.

"Yes…"

"I've learned all Braavos' islands; I can name them to you."

"Go on," he prompted her and when she finished, he nodded with appreciation.

"Very good."

Arya smiled. He rarely praised her but when he did, she always felt happy.

"D'arhull iraa tsi entharan," he said, which meant: a girl isn't wasting her time.

"Of course I'm not, what did you think? How do you say happy in Braavos?"

"Zywa."

"D'arhull tsi zywa unn narathan," Arya said and earned yet another appreciative smile.

"A girl is happy?"

"She'wa," she agreed. "I wanted to know how you say moon, stars and night."

"Larro, enarani, ghasaa."

Arya thought about it for a while, forming sentences in her head, asking Jaqen if they were correct. She hadn't realized until he hadn't answered he was dozing off.

"Will you sleep in the tub tonight? You better watch out or you're going to drown."

Jaqen snorted, mildly amused and obviously completely worn out.

"That wouldn't sound very well now, would it?" Arya asked. "The best assassin I know – drowned while having a bath. Certainly not the kind of death you'd wish for."

She giggled and even Jaqen laughed in his own derisive manner.

"I can wash your hair," she offered. He half-opened his eyes and gave her a deep look but gestured his hand wearily. She took the bucket and filled it with water, pouring it slowly over his hair.

"Is a girl still having nightmares?" he asked, keeping his eyes closed. Arya raised an eyebrow, surprised when detecting genuine interest in his tone.

"No," she said. "Seems they're gone for now…"

She poured another bucket of hot water over him, brushing his hair off his eyes.

"A girl is gentle…" he said quietly, his tongue lazy and his tone sleepy. "A man didn't know a wolf could be so gentle…"

"Even a wolf can be gentle to those he cares for," she explained. "What about you, Jaqen?"

He didn't answer which wasn't much of a surprise, but Arya could at least say – by the look of his face – he'd certainly thought of it. She kept brushing his hair, finding an odd delight in it. Suddenly, an idea sparkled in her mind. She crept to another tub with cold water and filled the bucket with it, creeping back. Time for her special gift…

Just when she put the bucket above his head, his arms moved so fast she could only blink and he grabbed her tightly by her forearms. She dropped the bucket into the tub, her heart racing in shock. He tilted his head back and their eyes met.

"A girl wants to play?" he sneered and before she could say anything he sank her head under water. He let go then and Arya leaped back with a yell, soaked wet.

"Jaqen!"

Arya fell silent when she noticed Jaqen's alert expression. He put a finger across his mouth, looking behind her shoulder. Arya turned her head partially, catching sight of Jaqen slipping out of the tub like a cat and disappearing in shadows.

What did he see?

Arya screamed. A man in armor emerged from the dark cloister, going after her. She turned, crawling away on all four. The man was trying to grab her legs and she kept kicking until she heard him gasp in pain. She turned, not seeing anything in the darkness but could hear the noise of a fight, swords clashing and heavy breathing.

She started when another man rushed from the darkness right in front of her. He stopped abruptly, rasping, the tip of a sword protruding from his chest. Arya looked behind his shoulder.

Jaqen was towering above her with his body gleaming faintly, water trickling down his dark skin. He threw the impaled man away, his eyes narrowed, creases forming on his forehead.

"They found us…"

"Who?"

He slowly walked to the wooden bench and took a bath sheet, wrapping it around his waist.

"Men of Garthos," he replied. "Obviously."

"But how?" she didn't understand. "Nobody can describe you, right?"

"Yes," he agreed, looking her in the eyes. "But they can describe you, lovely girl. We must leave tonight."

Arya gulped, getting what that actually said. She will always be a threat, always a weakness for him. A burden.

"What, lovely girl?" he asked. "Only a small wolf cub is vulnerable. And a man is willing to wait till it grows up."

* * *

_Inspired by an actual part in the books, some of you may know. Really wish this was in the show :-)_


	9. Trust

"Attack me, wolf-girl…"

The phantom's voice whispered into her ear, leaving her body in slight shiver. Arya's eyes were covered again and she had Jaqen's spare sword in her right hand. She held her breath, focusing only on what she could hear. Wind blowing faintly, lizard's legs scuttling on the sand, quiet squeaking of her own boots… But his steps she couldn't hear.

"I said attack!" he shouted and Arya grimaced, whirling around after his voice.

"Move!" she shouted back.

"I am moving," he answered almost teasingly.

"I can't hear you," she uttered with frustration.

"A girl isn't paying enough attention…"

Arya stayed still, letting out an angry sigh. She calmed down, though, trying again. She separated the wind and crawling insect from the silence, concentrating deeply.

Barely audible sound of dress shifting, right behind her...

Arya turned in a split second, swinging her sword. She yelped shocked when her sword clashed with another blade.

"Yes!" she exclaimed with joy and satisfaction, attacking him again, fiercely, swaying her sword in the air. But Jaqen pushed her away harshly so she fell on her back, hitting the ground.

"Damn!" she swore, tearing the cloth off her eyes.

"Why did you do that? I've finally made it!"

"You've made what?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I hit you!"

"Maybe…" he admitted. "You hit my sword one time but would be killed five times."

"Why are you telling me that? Do you think I don't know just how useless I still am? I've finally managed to achieve one thing and what's your answer? Mockery! If I wanted someone to mock me, I could have stayed where I was!"

Arya was picking herself up with more murmuring and swearing.

"A girl is stupid if she thinks a man is so low he'd enjoy mocking her for her lack of skills."

Arya looked up at him, her eyes still slightly narrowed.

"This wildness is a quality of yours –," Jaqen put his sword back into the sheath,"– but it is also your greatest flaw. Fighting furiously like that doesn't mean winning. It means defeat if you come across an opponent with cool head and tactics. You need to learn how to control your temper and use it for good."

Jaqen turned his back on her.

"I've never said the first strike was bad, though," he added and carried on walking. Arya was staring after him, breathing heavily and thinking if what he said insulted her or flattered her. And she came to the conclusion both was right.

It had been three days since they left Tuzzah, walking through the desert, with Arya appreciating Jaqen's readiness as he had packed a lot of food and water for their journey. They kept along the main road, a dangerous one to walk but they didn't have enough food and water to make a detour, let alone feeding the horse. Robbers often took the road too but they were lucky enough not to meet them yet.

"Why are we going to Tyrosh again?" Arya asked, walking beside Jaqen. Except the practicing or language lessons Jaqen wouldn't say a single word and they went in silence all the time. Arya didn't disturb him, feeling like an intruder a bit, and she filled the silent parts with repeating what she'd learned. But after some it'd come to a point Arya couldn't bear the silence anymore.

"I haven't told you yet."

"Indeed you haven't," Arya said. "That's why I ask."

"It is a city they most likely won't be looking for us in."

"You are good enough to kill like everybody, why are we running away at all?"

Jaqen snorted.

"Although I feel deeply flattered, lovely girl, there are still enemies I wouldn't want to meet."

"You mean the Ruthraya? Who are they anyway?"

"The highest priests of my order. They are also the most skilled. Their duty is to watch over others, see if they abide the rules."

"Has anyone broken the rules before?"

"It's happened," Jaqen said. "Once in a hundred years."

Arya guessed, judging by what she knew and what he told her, breaking the rules must have been like the worst thing ever.

"Faceless Men worship the Red God," Arya said. "Isn't breaking the rules against him?"

"Of course," Jaqen uttered. "Quite a stupid question."

"I'm just wondering," Arya continued, her eyes fixed upon him, "what made you betray them and your god."

He gave her a cold side look and she backed off. Evidently not a safe ground, she thought.

"I will answer to my god for my doings. But that is only my business, girl."

"They wanted to execute you. How did you know I'd come soon enough?"

"I know their ways. They were waiting for you to come. Once you would be in their hands, they would question me again, threatening to me with your death. And the execution would be carried out on the third day, usually."

"But why was I so important to them?"

"You were a part of that deal I broke," Jaqen said. "But ask no more, wolf-girl. A man does not like speaking of this matter."

"I swore my life to you," Arya reminded him. "Don't you think I deserve a bit of trust?"

"Trust?" Jaqen repeated and stopped, meeting her eyes. There was something beyond the calm surface of his blue orbs, something dark and dreadful.

"A man has already given you his trust, wolf-girl. Don't ask for more as it is not possible."

His voice was dripping with ice and Arya shut her mouth at once, remaining silent utill the night changed to morning and the sun set, sending long, reddish rays around, the light reflecting against sand and stones. She glanced at Jaqen secretly, the color of his hair was burning red like flames.

"Red dusk," Arya said. "It means shed blood."

A scornful pout appeared on Jaqen's face.

"How come every dusk isn't red, then?" he asked. But Arya felt nervous for an unknown reason.

After a few more hours they paused near a big rock. It was a chilly night but Jaqen said making fire would be too risky. Arya walked a couple of meters to the shadows and dark. Every night she would do that – walk to the darkness alone – and look up at the stars, saying names of her family, hoping they could hear her. But that night she stayed silent, her eyes fixed on fire light in distance.

"Robbers," she heard Jaqen's voice. The assassin was standing behind her, motionless, looking in the same direction.

"Are they dangerous?"

"Depends…" he said. "A girl stays here and waits. A man will take a look himself."

As he vanished, taking his horse with him, Arya leaned against the rock, waiting impatiently, her feeling of menace not going away.

"I think you should come back, Jaqen…" she whispered and at the moment she froze like a statue. Wind carried someone's words towards her.

"Gidzah u'tani yateh uwa, yash-el di inebri…"

Arya widened her eyes. It was Braavos language. And she could translate it fairly well.

"Let's wait for the bastard and cut his throat."


	10. Bravery

"You see this stuff? It's fucking expensive. This bastard is rich. I say we flay him first and cut his head off later."

"Or we can roast him."

"Yeah, I like that!"

"But we must hide before he comes."

Arya was watching them from the top of the highest rock she climbed. Pressing herself against the cold stone, she did her best to calm down the frantic beating of her heart.

She was listening to them and although Arya hadn't been good in Braavos yet, she could catch a word or two, enough to get what they were talking about.

There were ten tall, broad-shouldered men waiting for Jaqen. Arya gulped. If she could somehow slip away and warn him… That wasn't possible, though, because they surrounded the rock she was on. Arya felt the fear rising in her chest. They were going to kill him right in front of her…

An approaching horse could be heard and Arya crawled nearer the edge, preparing to jump down. She'd almost done that but something held her back. What if she did it? She would jump in the middle of a fight where she'd get killed in a second. Not mentioning her only weapon was the small knife she stole from the guard in Garthos. She wouldn't accomplish anything and not even saving Jaqen's life would be certain. She had to warn him in a different way.

Arya breathed in deeply and howled, doing her best to make it sound like a wolf. The horse canter stopped but went on right off.

Arya narrowed her eyes. The horse appeared below but was carrying no rider. Arya watched the horse stop, jumping restlessly. Where was Jaqen? Did they kill him already? She felt her stomach wrench when only thinking about it.

"Totre rhaanar an sadom!" one of the men shouted, which meant: Somebody else's killed him.

He caught the horse, the animal fighting violently against him. Arya knew the horse wouldn't stand anybody but Jaqen touching it.

"Rakhar rhaan," another man said. Kill the beast.

The man holding Jaqen's horse drew his sword out but that was the last thing he had ever done. In the following second he was on the ground with a knife sticking out of his neck. Before they could react, a shady figure attacked them, killing two men hidden behind a bush at once. The others came out of hiding with roaring and swearing.

He was more like a shadow than a man, so fast his opponents didn't even know what hit them when he cut off their heads. But Arya recognized him, breathing out with relief. She watched him sink his sword into their hearts and necks and suddenly saw how dangerous Jaqen really was. He was no mere assassin but a man trained for killing kings. Robbers like this were no opponents to him.

While she was thinking, one man stepped away from the fight, pointing a crossbow at Jaqen.

"No!" Arya roared. She jumped off the rock, anguish and adrenaline mixing in her veins. She fell right on the man and started stabbing him to every part of his body she could reach. Soon his blood was covering her hands and face but she wouldn't stop. Screaming with hate and fear, she kept stabbing him even when he was lying on the ground. She carved his face, sliced his neck and chest, blood splashing around. It was almost like she couldn't stop until she felt a touch on her shoulder.

"Enough, wolf-girl. He can't be more dead."

Arya stopped, breathing heavily and feeling vaguely ill. She lifted her eyes to Jaqen, who was watching her silently. Behind him there was a pile of dead bodies of the men he slaughtered. He didn't say a word, just wiped the blood off her face with a piece of cloth.

"Is a girl hurt?"

She shook her head and asked: "Are they all dead?"

Jaqen nodded.

"The sun is going to rise soon. We'll wait."

He passed by the dead bodies and sat down, leaning against the rock. Arya sat down in front of him. The rush of excitement and fear hadn't been completely gone yet. Slowly she was calming down. She was watching Jaqen; realizing with a bit of shock just how much afraid she was that she could lose him.

"A girl saved a man again," Jaqen said, waking Arya from her contemplation.

"It was mutual this time," she said and he smirked.

"A man is grateful," he said smoothly, his tone unusually soft.

"What you did was brave."

"I didn't do it out of bravery," Arya said. "I did it out of fear."

Jaqen looked her in the eyes with a slight hint of surprise.

"That makes it braver," he said then. "But you don't need to be so afraid, lovely girl. It takes much more than ten robbers to kill me."

If anybody else would have said that, it'd been boasting to Arya. But Jaqen was merely stating.

"Don't be so humble," she muttered and Jaqen's face lit up with amusement.

"A man was just saying the truth," he objected calmly, evidently provoking her a little.

"Fine, so what would be difficult for you?" Arya asked, quite curious. "Fighting ten dragons alone? Wait, no, sorry, that would be like blowing a candle out for you. Perhaps fighting an army of dragons could make you a bit busy, right?"

Jaqen laughed.

"A girl is teasing me?" he asked, raising an eyebrow slowly.

"No, a girl is just curious," Arya said with a smile.

"She is indeed," Jaqen agreed. "Maybe she could think about it on her own."

Arya knew it'd really meant he wasn't going to answer her questions anymore, as he usually when she asked too much.

"Why don't you sleep for a while?" Arya asked. "I'll watch."

Jaqen seemed like considering it for a while.

"Very well, lovely girl," he said finally. "If you watch as good as you howl there's no need for a man to worry."

Arya was watching for the rest of the night, alert the whole time. Although she was suspicious Jaqen was awake and was pretending he was sleeping, as she spotted he'd smirked once or twice, she didn't actually mind.

When the sun rose in the morning, Arya started packing their stuff, putting it on Jaqen's horse. Jaqen said it would be five more days to Tyrosh and they needed to move on before they'd run out of food and water.

"Lovely girl," she heard Jaqen calling her and turned, narrowing her eyes against the sharp sun beams. Jaqen brought a black horse back with him.

"I let the other horses go," he explained, "but this horse belonged to the man you killed. Keep it."

Arya shifted her look from the horse to Jaqen. The assassin was smiling lightly.

"You defeated him so you can have his horse. It's very simple, wolf-girl."

Arya didn't ask how he was able to say which horse belonged to whom but took a good look at the horse instead. She had to admit it was a beautiful stallion. Lean, strong, with long and shiny mane. It too was stamping nervously, snorting and shaking its head. Arya took the reins from Jaqen's hand, reaching her arm and touching the white blaze on the horse's head.

The horse raised on hind legs, neighing. Arya shot Jaqen a worried look but he was just standing there with his arms crossed on his chest.

"Tame your horse, girl," he said.

"How?"

"Anyhow," Jaqen replied. "It's your horse. Only you can do it, otherwise the horse will never obey to you."

Arya fearfully approached the animal again, holding the reins tightly, trying to keep it from rising again.

"Hush now…" she said, her voice trembling a bit, remembering her father talking to quick-tempered horses. She was talking to the horse for a couple of minutes, watching it calming down. She got on it then and kept talking into its ear, stroking its neck, until the horse was standing still. She looked up at Jaqen with both surprise and pride.

"Time to teach you how to ride a horse," Jaqen uttered quietly.

"I'll name him Nuvian," Arya said, which meant "midnight" in Braavos. Jaqen got on his own horse and Arya raised an eyebrow.

"Does he have a name?"

"Sypherion," Jaqen said and the horse snorted when hearing his name.

"Sypherion?" Arya repeated. "That means sea breeze. Why did you name him like this?"

Jaqen looked at her over his shoulder.

"A girl asks too much again but asking questions won't get us to Tyrosh in time."

"But it'll make the journey funnier," Arya objected and heard him mutter something like: "A man seriously doubts that."


End file.
